Trying To Forget
by MickTheTrick
Summary: "He likes to say that he never loved him, that it was all part of the plan, or that he was just keeping him around for "business purposes". There are a lot of things Nolan likes to say, though, and a lot of them happen not to be true." Nolan character piece, his thoughts during the time between "Duress" and Season 2. Mentions of Nolan/Tyler.


**AUTHOR'S NOTE: My first Revenge story, I just really thought that there should have been more focus on Nolan's emotional and mental state after everything that happened with Tyler. I felt that it was just sort of like "OKAY NOW TYLER'S DEAD AND NOLAN IS COMPLETELY FINE AND NOW HE'S JUST GOING TO GO BACK TO HELPING EMILY LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED!". If there are any mistakes please don't hesitate to point them out.**

Some nights, he dreamt about him.

It mostly happened when he started to like someone else. He'd see someone who caught his eye, and he'd go home thinking of them. Then, he'd fall asleep and dream of Tyler. When he woke up in the morning he'd put on a brave face and too many polo shirts and forget the whole thing happened.

He was far from okay. He'd never be okay. How could he when the simple act of being happy, of feeling good, reminded him of Tyler? Of course, he would never tell that to anyone. He would go on living, pretending to be happy, even though somewhere inside him there was always a sick sense of yearning, a self-hatred that couldn't be washed away. Yes, Nolan Ross, one of the most powerful and influential people on the face of the planet, hated himself. He hated himself because he believed that Tyler loved him, that someone like him was capable of love. He hated himself even more so because he let himself fall in love with him. He likes to say that he never loved him, that it was all part of the plan, or that he was just keeping him around for "business purposes". There are a lot of things Nolan likes to say, though, and a lot of them happen not to be true.

Sometimes he took people home. Whenever he did, he always found himself wishing they were him. He'd go looking for scars that weren't there, listening for a voice that wouldn't come, trying desperately to find something, anything, to make him forget that it wasn't.

There were days where he'd forget about what happened. He'd wake up in the morning, blissfully ignorant, thinking he'd go downstairs and he'd be there waiting for him with a pot of coffee and a business proposition. Then he'd see the scar. He hated that scar. More than he hated the scar, he hated what it meant. It was like a record that never stopped, echoing through the halls of his mind. It taunted him, playing over and over again;_ he never loved you, he never loved you, he never loved you, he never loved you_. No matter how hard he tried to forget, he never could. It never let him.

He wound up either burning or breaking a lot of the things that reminded him of Tyler. Every cup he ever drank from, every chair he ever sat on, all his sheets, and even a good portion of his clothes. In the end, it didn't help much. He liked to think it did, but it didn't.

He started to think it might just be the house, so he sold it. Moved to New York, started again. It didn't work. He took up boxing, to fill up his time, to sweat away the memories. That didn't work, either. So, he did what any right-minded person would.

He started drinking.

He'd go out every night, get completely and utterly off his face, find some girl who he'd more than likely accidentally call Tyler, then wake up the next morning puking and alone.

When Emily came to see him, she took him to lunch. The restaurant she took him to was one he distinctly recalled as one of Tyler's favourites. He tried to ignore that fact, as well as the fact that this whole ordeal was all essentially her fault. And while he wasn't exactly successful, he needed a friend.

Still, he couldn't help but think how it could have been different without her. The more he was around her, the more he thought about it, and the more he thought about it, the more he found himself needing a drink. He ended up having one. Then two. He lost count around five. He went back and spied for Emily like a good little boy, and when she left he just got drunker until he ended up crying until he passed out in the kitchen.

In the morning, Emily pretended she didn't come home and drag him to his bedroom. He was thankful for that.

**Reviews + criticisms are much appreciated.**

**-Mick**


End file.
